


Charlie Takes a Holiday

by Leela



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M, club!fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-17
Updated: 2013-05-17
Packaged: 2017-12-12 04:20:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/807165
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leela/pseuds/Leela
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The last thing Charlie wants after five days of "sun and fun" with his family is another dinner or pub-crawl with anyone he's related to. No matter how much he likes them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Charlie Takes a Holiday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [luvscharlie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvscharlie/gifts).



> **Beta** : @aislinntlc
> 
> **A/N** : Written for luvscharlie, who has given me so much joy over the years, through the fests she's modded, the stories she's written, and the tales she's told in her LJ, and hoping this helps make things just a little bit brighter in her world.

The sun and the sand are fine, the sea is gorgeous, but if Charlie has to duck out of the way of another wizard wielding a camera like a wand, he's not going to be responsible for the consequences. Especially when the wizard is his own damn father. 

"Just one more before the sun sets." Arthur waves his hands, camera lens flashing in the sunlight. "Elspeth had her eyes closed in that last one."

_And Percy was frowning in the one before. And James ducked behind Harry in the one before that._ "And... and... fucking and..."

Angelina's snicker has Charlie clamping his lips together. He really hadn't meant to say the last bit out loud. Any of it, really. _At least he just muttered it_ , he thought.

"It's not that bad," Angelina says, as she yanks on Roxanne's collar and stops her from sitting down.

"Places, people," Arthur calls out. 

"It's not that bad," George agrees. "It's a bloody sight worse. I'd rather go to one of Aunt Muriel's dreadful dos than another one of these family things."

"Sssshhh..." Percy puts a finger over his lips and scowls at them. 

"Everybody look this way and say Wheeze."

Turning around, Charlie drags another smile out for his dad. This time, to his intense relief, the picture works out and everyone gets to shuffle away with a reminder from Molly to meet down in the breakfast room at 8 o'clock the next morning for the Wizarding Bus Tour.

Charlie shakes his head at Bill, who's gesturing at him to come over and join him, Ron, and Harry. The last thing Charlie wants after five days of "sun and fun" with his family is another dinner or pub-crawl with anyone he's related to. No matter how much he likes them.

Bill tilts his head and beckons him again. 

"No." Charlie forms the word silently and cuts his hand over his forehead in the universal Weasley sign for _Enough_.

Within seconds, Ron's over talking with their dad, Harry's sending James and Al over to talk to their mom, and the others are moving into position to block Charlie from their parents' view. 

The coast is absolutely clear for Charlie to get away without any trouble at all.

₪ ₪ ₪

After a peaceful dinner in a dingy Italian restaurant with only his book and a group of old men huddled over a game of Scopa, Charlie's ready for company that isn't his family. He shrinks his book and tucks it into his mokeskin pouch before he steps out into the alleyway. Fingers curled around the card he got from Viktor just before he left the reserve, reminding himself to drop Viktor's name if needed, Charlie Apparates to the coordinates he was given.

He lands in darkness and silence so complete that he wobbles for a second before he gets his balance. As Viktor instructed, he holds his hands out, palms upwards, with his wand across one palm and the card in the other.

The spell that slithers over him is like nothing he's felt before. His skin prickles and tingles in its wake, and when it slides between his legs, his cock sends a bolt of heat up his spine to dry out the back of his mouth.

Shifting until his legs are shoulder-width apart, Charlie lets whoever it is feel what he has to offer. The twist and slide of the spell seem to last forever, taking his cock from soft to hard, and leaving him wanting someone — _anyone_ — to touch it, squeeze it, feel it.

When he's almost at the end of his endurance, when he's ready to use his own wand to change the feather-light touch of the spell into something he can thrust up and into, he gets a magical tap on the ass and the lights slowly brighten. 

The room has black walls, black floor, black ceiling, and a silver-white door that's directly in front of him. Charlie waits, having been warned by Viktor not to assume anything, and is rewarded with a deep laugh, a voice bidding him welcome, and the door clicking open.

₪ ₪ ₪

After three drinks, Charlie's ready to move away from his spot at the quiet end of the bar. He puts the glass down, placing his hand over it when the bartender gestures towards the bottle, and heads for a spot in the shadows with a good view of the dance floor.

The space is crowded, men dancing with men dancing with women dancing with women. And a few that Charlie's not quite sure about. None of that matters, not right now. All he wants is a good time with someone who doesn't care that Charlie's still stuck on someone he first met years ago, during a war that most people want to forget. 

He steps around one couple and is about to cut between three women, when a long finger slides down his chest and comes to rest on his belt. 

The man is tall and blond. His intricately patterned and styled hair reaches down past his hips and is perfect for tugging, holding onto, messing up. A wicked smile curving his lips, Charlie moves into him and rolls his hips. The man places his hands on Charlie's shoulders and rubs against him like a cat. 

He's just another man, like so many others, seeing what he wants in Charlie, and like as not, unlikely to ask what Charlie needs instead of jumping to conclusions. He's pretty enough though for Charlie to be willing to fall into bed with him for a night.

"Hello," the man says, his mouth a breath away from Charlie's, close enough for Charlie to taste the slightly bitter liquorice of absinthe on the man's breath.

"Hullo." Charlie licks the man's lips, presses closer, and curves his hands around the man's ass. 

Only to be pulled back against a solid chest by an arm around his waist. The strength in that arm sends a shiver of need through Charlie strong enough for him to forget about the man in front of him.

Still, Charlie's never been that easy. He starts to pull away, only to stop when the rumble of Viktor's accented English vibrates through him. "I didn't go to all the trouble of persuading the board to let in a non-member for you to hook up with the first brainless idiot to catch your eye."

"You should have said you were taken." The man huffs and flips his hair. "And by that one, who doesn't share."

Before Charlie can respond, the man has disappeared into the dancers around them. He sighs. "I liked him."

"Shall I let you go?" 

"No." Turning around in Viktor's arms, Charlie tries to work out what Viktor's up to. "That would be rude, after all the trouble you went to."

Viktor's smile is tight-lipped, more in his eyes than around his mouth, but it's more than Charlie's seen from him in the months since Viktor was sent to the reserve to investigate just how much the former assistant director stole from the dragons. 

"No." Viktor presses a thumb down the deepening vertical line between Charlie's eyebrows. "You're here to forget all that."

"And you?" Charlie asks, his heart tripping a beat in his chest. "What are you here for?"

For a moment, as Viktor's hand drops down and he seems to be about ready to let go, Charlie's can't help but think that maybe he's misunderstood. But then Viktor brings his hand back up, curls his fingers around Charlie's jaw, and kisses him. 

Viktor's lips aren't soft; they're slightly chapped. And they're everything Charlie had jacked off to. He can feel his own lips reddening, the small pains caused by Viktor's scruff spiking through him, right down his spine to settle at the base of his cock. When Viktor ends the kiss with a sweep of his tongue over Charlie's parted lips, Charlie tries to turn his head, to chase after those sensations, but Viktor's fingers tighten on his jaw and stop him.

"Tell me yes," Viktor murmurs against Charlie's ear. "Tell me I haven't imagined what could be between us. Tell me I haven't dreamt of nothing."

He pulls back so Charlie can look in his eyes. His gaze is intense, heated, and Charlie's cock hardens. He wants, how he fucking wants all that coiled strength, the grace in the air and the clumsiness on the ground, all of Viktor Krum.

"Fire," Charlie finally says, when he can speak. "I dream of fire."

Viktor's eyebrows draw together. His eyes bore into Charlie's, and the others on the dance floor, the club, the entire damn city, seem to fade away into nothingness. There's nothing else in the world for Charlie but them and the thundering of Charlie's heart, the sizzle and snap of his magic reaching out to touch Viktor's.

"I can give you that," Viktor finally says. 

Then he kisses Charlie, licking into his mouth, owning him, possessing him, branding him with the thrust of his tongue, and the nipping drag of his teeth. 

And Charlie can give him nothing less than everything.


End file.
